


The Prince and his Student

by Hearmliyneae



Series: The Story of the King (and a Couple Other People) [1]
Category: Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Estel, Gen, I repeat this is not a love story, kid!Aragorn, this is not a love story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-12-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 00:03:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hearmliyneae/pseuds/Hearmliyneae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the Ring was found, before Thorin conquered the Lonely Mountain, before Arwen loved Aragorn, there was a young boy. A mortal child, living in the Last Homely Home. There was also an Elf. A Prince, who one day showed up, and decided to stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Embarrassment

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story about Legolas and Aragorn's friendship, before the Fellowship.
> 
> It is not a love story between Aragorn and Legolas.

            The little boy raced through the halls of his home, on and on and on, until he skidded to a halt in front of his father’s study. He put his ear to the door.

            “But of course! You can stay here as long as you like!” He heard his father say. A visitor! Maybe it was someone he knew!

            The boy pulled the door open, and attempted to run up to his father. However, a stray stool blocked his path and the boy tripped. He landed flat on his face, and the two seated Elves jumped up.

            “Whoa! Careful there, clumsy!” A strange voice said. Two strong arms lifted the child up off the floor. They were clad in a brown-green cloth, with a silver pattern of branches running across their lengths. Two brown leather wrist-guards covered the ends of the sleeves.

            “Have you forgotten how to knock, Estel?” A slightly amused Lord Elrond asked his mortal son. The stranger smiled, and put the boy back on his feet.

            “No _Ada_. I’m sorry.” Estel said, not really meaning it. He was staring at the other Elf.

            Estel had never seen anyone like him. His hair was flaxen and fell down past his shoulders. Two small yet intricate braids framed his tanned face. His sparkling eyes were bright green; the colour of a summer forest. This strange Elf was taller than Lord Elrond, and more muscular. His clothing appeared simple and yet was made of the finest cloth and wool. They were smeared with mud and dust, as were his boots, but the Elf still had an aura of power about him. Estel was captivated.

            “This is him, then?” The stranger asked the Lord of Rivendell.

            “This is him.” Elrond assured. “Estel, this is Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. Say hello.”

            Estel’s mouth went dry. “Hello Your Majesty.” He mumbled, looking at his feet. He’d tripped, in front of a prince! It could hardly get any more embarrassing.

            Said prince crouched down in front of the four-year-old. “Hello, Estel. You can just call me Legolas, if you’d like.” The boy nodded, swallowing dryly. “Alright then. You didn’t hurt yourself just now, did you, clumsy?” This time the boy shook his head.

            “Estel?” The child looked at his father. “Would you mind leaving us for a moment?”

            “Yes, _Ada_. I’m sorry I interrupted.” The boy turned to leave, glancing at the Prince one last time.

            “Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you go see if Glorfindel has anymore stories for you?” Elrond replied, sitting back down in his chair. As his son closed the door behind him, Legolas, too sat.

            “My apologies, Legolas. He is quite a handful.” Elrond said to the younger Elf.

            “Has he a teacher yet?” Legolas asked, looking from the door to his companion.

            “I thought you came here to rest?” The Lord asked, raising his eyebrows. A smile played at his lips.

            “That doesn’t mean I’ve learned how to sit still for more than twenty minutes.” Legolas replied with a grin.

            “Erestor, Glorfindel, and I can make time to teach him, Legolas. You need not sacrifice your time.”

            “I’ll need something to distract me from my recent memories. It would be nowhere close to a sacrifice.”

            “Very well then. But you will have to stay in Rivendell for a couple years. Perhaps even ten.”

            “Father has given me as much time as I need.”

            “Those scars will not heal that fast, no. Thank you, Legolas. I am indebted.”

            “My genuine pleasure, my Lord.”


	2. Balrog In The Cupboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps Glorfindel shouldn't tell Estel stories...

            Knocking roused the fair-haired Elf from his work. He put down the report he had been working on, and looked at the door. _I really hope it’s not Elrond or Erestor..._ he thought. The last thing he needed now was more work.

            “Enter!”

            The door opened slowly, as young Estel pushed against the heavy wood. The Elf smiled at him. The young mortal was one of his favourite people in all of Rivendell.

            “Hello, Estel! What can I do for you?”

            “Hello, Fin.” The boy replied. “Ada said I should ask you for another story.”

            “Oh. Have you finished all your work?”

            The child pulled a face. He hated the work he had to do. Who cares if he can’t read? When is that ever going to help him?

            “You, penneth, prefer songs to school! I was the same way, when I was young.” Glorfindel said to Estel.

            “You can’t have been little! You’re so big!” Estel gasped in disbelieve.

            “I was, once. A very long time ago. Now, come here.” The child scrambled onto the seneschal’s lap. “Have I ever told you about the time I killed a Balrog?”

            “No! What’s a Balrog?” Estel asked, enticed.

            “It was a very, very long time ago. Long before you were born...”

* * *

            “So then, we looted the cave, because what use do goblins have of fancy gold objects?”

            “You are both mad...”

            “It runs in the family.”

            “Well, it is good to see you two again. Although I can still not keep you apart!”

            The three Elves laughed at Legolas’ last comment. It was true, Elladan and Elrohir were indistinguishable from each other. But so it is often with twins. The friends parted ways, Elladan and Elrohir continuing down the hall, on their way to the Hall of Fire for the evening’s festivities. Legolas, on the other hand, headed the other way towards the rooms he had been given by his host. He had travelled far and felt the need to rest overwhelmed the need to enjoy the company of the other Elves.

            About to enter his bedchamber, he turned his head towards the door opposite his. Did he just hear someone talking to himself? Legolas gave the door an inquisitive look. Should he knock? No, of course not. It was none of his business. The Mirkwood Prince turned back towards his own door and twisted the handle. He pushed the door open and walked into the spacious room when he heard a crash.

            Spinning around, his hand went to the dagger at his side. Something was happening in that other room. What if someone was getting hurt? What if there were thieves in Rivendell? Legolas approached the door, and slowly opened it.

            The human child was lying on the floor surrounded by what Legolas assumed were the remnants of a cupboard. The boy was looking at him in fear, frozen in shock.

            “Your Majesty! I can explain! Please don’t tell my father!” The boy said in a high-pitched voice. “Please I didn’t mean to break it!”

            Legolas smiled. It had simply been the human’s clumsiness. “Come now, child. What happened here? Are you being clumsy again?”

            “Yes my Lord, I was. I’m sorry.” Came the reply, as the boy hung his head. He sat up and crossed his legs.

            “Now why is this... cupboard... broken? Is there a reason?” Legolas asked the boy What was his name again? Legolas really needed some rest. He never forgot anything!

            “I... I wanted to see if there was a Balrog in it, because I was scared that there’s one in my room that’s going to eat me... And then I wanted to look behind the cupboard, but I pulled too hard and it fell...” The boy said still looking down.

            Legolas crouched down beside the child. “Well, then it can’t have been very strong to begin with, can it now?” The human shook his head, “And perhaps Glorfindel forgot to tell you, for it must have been Glorfindel who scared you with his stories, but Balrogs are so big that if one was hiding in Rivendell, it would not even fit in the stables without being seen! And when it was seen, it would be killed immediately by Glorfindel, and your brothers, and your _Ada_.” At this the child looked up at Legolas with disbelieving eyes. “It’s true, I would know.” Legolas said with a wink. “Now, go find your father and let him know the cupboard fell over and broke. You might get a splinter is the wood stays on the floor.”

            Legolas helped the child up, and guided him towards the door.

            “Thank you, my Lord.” He said.

            “Come now! You can just call me Legolas, alright?”

            “Yes, Legolas. And thank you again!” The child, _Estel_ , said before running off down the corridor. _Estel_. Hope. That was his name.

            Yes, Legolas thought. This child definitely gives me hope. For if one can be so cheerful, can one not also heal, even from the worst wounds?


End file.
